


Aoba's Declassified School Survival Guide

by complacentCatalyst



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, Middle School, Other, agender!Sei, braceface!Koujaku, embarrassingly overeccentric!Clear, except sei. sei is still precious as always, he wears those fake fox tail things that you pin to your belt you know the ones, hipster!Aoba, hot highschooler!Mink, pretty much making all the boyfriends as embarrassing as possible, punk!Mizuki, weeaboo!memer extraordinaire!Noiz, wolfpack!Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complacentCatalyst/pseuds/complacentCatalyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The school AU you never knew you wanted. You will probably never want it. But it's here. And it's not a survival guide at all.</p><p>EDIT: Discontinued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Name Isn't Aoba

In past years, he had tried to gain respect by following everyone else’s rules. Dress like they do. Eat what they do. Hang out where they do. Wear what the kids on TV wear. This year, Aoba was not going to gain popularity by being just like everyone else. He was going to be cool - the kind that no one recognizes at first. He had spent a good few days on the computer over the summer looking for everything he would need to gain people’s attention. His allowance was not very high, so he could only afford one thing to start off the new year, but this would be enough.

It was sleek. Bright. Beautiful. No one had ever heard of it at this school - they wouldn’t know where to find it. Jerry Blaine was some new designer, and Aoba had gotten his hands on one of the jackets in his “Blaine Nuts” line. It was popular among college kids. That’s how he knew it would make him so cool that he might even be unappreciated in his time. It may have been too hot to wear in September, but he didn’t care. As he pulled it on in front of the mirror in his bedroom, he felt like nothing could stop him. The people at school wouldn’t even _know_.

“Aoba! What’s taking you so long? You’re going to be late!”

“Fashionably late!” he retorted. His grandmother hated when he did stuff like that. Her comeback was admittedly impossible to argue with: “The bus won’t wait forever,” she said. Aoba rushed downstairs and didn’t bother giving her a kiss. That was for toddlers. He picked up his white and electric blue backpack and headed for the door. His grandmother’s nagging voice made him stop in his tracks when she asked, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She gestured to a form by the front door. It was Sei - his hypochondriac of a twin. Sei was seated on the wooden floor, struggling to tie the laces on one of his black boots. He was entirely absorbed in the act.

“Granny, we’re in eighth grade. He can walk by himself to the dumb bus,” Aoba complained. Granny Tae pushed her eyebrows together in frustration. She put her hands on her hips.

“Aoba Sera-”

“That’s not my name anymore.”

“I am not calling you that silly nickname. It sounds like a hooligan street rat,” Tae barked. She pointed at Sei and added, “Help your brother and walk him to the bus.”

Sighing as loudly as possible - the effort he put into it was truly a force to be reckoned with - Aoba knelt down in front of Sei and finished tying his stupid shoe for him, then helped him stand. The things he did for this stupid kid. Most of the time, he felt like _he_ was the older twin.

“Thank you, Aoba,” Sei said and clung to his hand, even as they walked out the front door. Probably every single kid on the bus could see. They looked like such dorks. Aoba couldn’t even let go because Granny was watching from the window. As soon as they reached the bus, however, he pulled his hand out of Sei’s flimsy grasp and left that sucker in the dust. By the time he picked a seat, Sei was just reaching the top step at the front of the vehicle.

* * *

 

“Dude, he has a _condition_.” Mizuki gestured with both his hands as if it would make his argument any less lame.

“Yeah. It’s called being a baby.” Aoba replied. “He just acts all wimpy so I’ll hang out with him and walk him places.”

Mizuki was unconvinced. He gave Aoba the _I-can’t-believe-you-right-now_ look. He shook his head disappointedly and argued, “It’s a legit medical thing, Aoba. He was in the hospital a while back, remember? Why are you suddenly bothered by it? You used to piggyback him to school because you were worried he would get rocks in his shoes.”

Oh God. So embarrassing. He wanted to hide even though no one was listening. Mizuki was one of the few people Aoba could actually call cool, but sometimes he could be a drag. Seriously-- who brings up elementary school stuff anymore?

“Okay, but that was a long time ago. He’s old enough to take care of himself now. I can’t let him depend on me forever. I’m being a good brother through tough love, see? He’ll thank me someday,” reasoned Aoba. His legs were crossed on his desk. Not very comfortable because the desks were somewhat small, but damn, did he feel cool. When the teacher walked in he was told to put them down. He did, but rebelled by sitting in his seat sideways instead of facing the front. Mizuki stopped arguing with him since the teacher started to call roll. When Aoba’s name was called, he did not answer. The teacher looked directly at him and called it again, expecting an answer. None was given.

“Aoba, is there a reason you want to be marked absent?” the teacher asked. Aoba raised his eyebrows inquisitively. This was it. Time to make himself known. The new Aoba would be born in this moment. His title of Coolest Kid in Midorijima Middle School was so close he could taste it. It tasted like the pancakes Granny had made that morning.

“My name isn’t Aoba,” he said simply.

“Then what do we call you, not-Aoba?”

Silence spread through the room like a plague. Students turned their heads to stare at him. Take a good look, everyone. They were in the presence of a legend. He grinned and slacked in his seat, keeping eye contact with the teacher as he gave out his new identity.

“Call me Sly Blue.”


	2. No One Cares About Stupid Facebook Memes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoba's crew expands.

For the first week of school, everyone refused to call Aoba by his new name. Even the narrator. It was annoying and he had to retaliate by ignoring anyone who used his “real” name. There were only two people who called him by his new name, both of them in his homeroom class: Mizuki (of course, always a bro) and his other good friend Koujaku.

Koujaku was the opposite of cool. It cramped his style just to look at the guy. He had braces, and rather than conceal them by keeping his mouth shut, Koujaku liked to request red bands for the brackets, and he liked to talk. The worst part? He talked mostly about video games. Not even the cool ones. Koujaku liked MMORPGs. _World of Warcraft_ and stuff like that. For some reason, he thought it would get him all the chicks.

He was a good friend though, so Aoba tolerated him. Even when his braces made him really drooly and gross. Currently it was a Monday morning again and Koujaku was going on about… something game-related. Aoba wasn’t listening. Mizuki was drawing a skull on his desk in Sharpie while he pretended to listen. Neither of them had a clue what he was saying. It wasn’t until Aoba heard him say the words “Sly” and “Blue” that he gave Koujaku his undivided attention.

“What?” he asked, perking up like a nipple in winter.

“I said, everyone in my guild would be stoked if you joined us. If you tried the game, you’d like it.” Koujaku’s tone was excited - seeing his friend’s positive response had given him (false) hope. It was painful to watch. Aoba had to let him down easy.

“I’m not gonna play frickin’ _Runescape_ , Koujaku.” Easy like Sunday morning.

“It’s not _Runescape_!” objected Koujaku. “That’s for noobs.”

“Did you just say ‘noobs’ in real life?” Mizuki cut in.

Koujaku ignored him. “It’s called _Rib_ ,” he corrected Aoba. “I even checked character creation, and the name ‘Sly Blue’ isn’t taken yet.”

This asshole tried to make a character for him? How desperate was he? Aoba hadn’t played games like that in forever. It was so dorky. He wanted to tape his friend’s mouth shut.

“You’re considering it, aren’t you?” Braceface persisted. Aoba rolled his eyes and shot him down quickly with a “Hell no.”

Suddenly, the kid in front of Koujaku spun in his seat with the most skeevy grin Aoba had ever seen. He was decked out in so much black, white, and neon green that it made his eyes hurt. The boy was wearing a really stupid hat with cat ears on it and a zipper down the middle that seemed to serve no necessary function whatsoever. He also wore a ridiculously huge necklace that was just a row of skulls (Mizuki, Aoba noticed, was trying to be secretive about staring longingly at it). There had to be a law against how many layers of clothing he had. It was as if he was competing with the Blaine Nuts jacket for fastest heat stroke. In his hand he held up a cell phone, on which was displayed a shitty Microsoft Paint caricature of a forlorn face. The boy glanced back and forth from the image he was showing off to the other three students as if he expected them to understand what the hell was so entertaining about it. All conversation was at a standstill for a good ten seconds before Mizuki spoke up to Aoba’s left.

“Nice selfie,” he commented, eliciting giggles from Aoba. Neon Hot Topic Disaster’s smile vanished and he said flatly, “It’s the ‘that feel when’ guy. How the fuck do you not know—”

“Isn’t that like three years old?” Koujaku asked, much to the Cat in the Hat’s dissatisfaction.

“It’s a classic and always applicable. It’s funny because of society’s standards of constantly needing a committed relationship to achieve self-satisfaction. ‘That feel when’ guy is sad because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Kind of like you, because you just got rejected by Jolly Rancher hair here.” The entire explanation was said with a straight face. Koujaku was severely unimpressed while Aoba (and Mizuki) still had no idea what was going on. Finally Rave Edition Hello Kitty added, “It’s a meme.”

Aoba had heard that word before. “Like the cat pictures with the funny captions?” he guessed. Meme Boy looked insulted and snapped, “No one cares about the stupid Facebook memes anymore.”

“You’re wearing a cat hat, dumbass,” Aoba countered. “How was I supposed to know you don’t like the cat pictures? And how dare you assume I have Facebook. That’s so lame.”

Koujaku opened his mouth to speak, but Aoba shot him a silencing glare; he could not have people hearing that he really did have a Facebook account. _Final Fantasy_ Costume Reject processed Aoba’s response silently until his mouth turned up in another smirk. “I’m Noiz,” he introduced himself as he held out his hand. The hell kind of a name was that? Regardless, Aoba shook Noiz’s hand. Apparently disdain for Facebook was all it took to make new friends. Too bad this kid still had a long way to go before he was cool.

“I’m Sly Blue. That’s Koujaku, and that’s Mizuki.” Koujaku continued to look derisive while Mizuki nodded at the new acquaintance. It seemed that Noiz was going to milk Koujaku’s growing antipathy for all it was worth; he turned to him and picked the worst possible thing to taunt him with.

“So you play _Rib_? You know that shit’s for peasants, right? The combat system is so outdated.”

Koujaku immediately replied, “Your mom’s system is outdated but I still play her.” Everyone pretended not to see that he accidentally spit on his desk a little from the force of his angry words.

This began bickering that went back and forth for a few minutes. Mizuki returned to drawing on his desk. Aoba watched in order to tune the other two out. Unfortunately, the teacher chose that moment to enter the classroom. The poor man had to stand right next to Koujaku and Noiz’s desks to get their attention and calm them down. Immediately after that he sentenced Mizuki to detention for “defacing school property _again_ ,” which was one of the plentiful reasons Mizuki always got detention; it happened so often that most days he took the activity bus home with the kids who actually attended clubs and such. To put it in Mizuki’s words, he was fresh out of shits to give. The rest of the class was admittedly entertaining - Koujaku and Noiz tried to continue their argument through whispering and note-passing. One time when he caught a glimpse of the paper, Aoba spotted another creepy drawing of a face with “U MAD?” written under it. It was apparently so offensive that Koujaku refused to reply after receiving it.

* * *

 

Lunch time was sacred. Aoba treasured it because he could see friends that weren’t in his classes. As he sat down with his tray at one of the long dark gray tables, Koujaku claimed the spot to his left and Mizuki the one to his right. Was this the beginning of a posse? How sweet was _that_. Noiz also joined them since he apparently had no one else to sit with (for some reason that was very believable). Slowly the table filled up; a few of Koujaku’s friends who were in that MMO guild with him, some of Mizuki’s leather-clad buddies, and even Sei showed up with a salad. What an attention whore. He only had like two allergies.

“...and he started talking about his suit. I was like, why the heck do I care? I came here for a smoke, not your stupid designer pants or whatever.” One of Mizuki’s friends was going off about something a few seats down, and the whole table was invested in it, though Aoba had been spacing out while he thought about what he should get with his next allowance. Now he was interested, however.

“Who are we talking about?” he inquired.

“Those guys that hang out behind the bleachers all the time.”

That didn’t sound creepy at all. Aoba frowned and stated, “I’ve never seen them.”

Even Sei seemed to be in the loop. He nodded and added quietly, “They sell drugs and things like that. They tried to talk to me once during gym class. It was… unsettling.”

_Of course they’d pick on a weenie like you_ , Aoba thought, but kept it to himself. He was only interested in one thing. “What designer were the pants from?” he asked, and the table went silent. They all gave him a deprecating look.

“I’m pretty sure nobody cares, Sly,” Mizuki said flatly, “but maybe you could ask.” He was being facetious. Aoba knew that. But designer stuff was like his thing now. It was his duty to find out. One day he would have to stop by the bleachers.

“Speaking of weirdos,” Noiz interjected, gesturing towards the middle of the cafeteria. Everyone followed his gaze. All students were seated and eating except one: a tall guy wearing mostly black who was holding a paper lunch bag and looking very troubled. There were plenty of goth kids in the school who would probably be glad to accept him. The feature that seemed to set him apart was the fluffy navy blue fake tail that hung from the back belt loop of his jeans. Whenever the boy neared a table to claim a seat, stares were directed at him and he would back away. Though he had not put a lot of effort into being nice lately, Aoba couldn’t help but feel bad for him. (After all, they even included someone as strange as Noiz.) Before the others could object, Aoba raised his hand and called out to the boy.

“There’s a seat over here!”

The whole table shot him another unapproving look. “There actually isn’t,” someone pointed out. One of Koujaku’s dorky friends. Aoba looked at him, raised his eyebrows, and said, “Then make room.”

Somehow that actually worked. Koujaku Crony #1 got out of his seat. There was a big mess of rearranging while the poor kid with the tail watched with an almost guilty expression. When everyone was finally situated, the seat across from Aoba was empty. Tail kid sat there. His hazel eyes surveyed the other students behind messy black bangs. His shirt had a picture of wolves howling at the moon, he had like five bracelets on his left wrist, and— was that a dog collar around his neck? There was definitely a theme here. Either he was shy, or he was waiting for someone else to say something first. Noiz looked like he was about to speak up. Whatever he might say was bound to be stupid, so Aoba took it upon himself to welcome the guy.

“Hi,” he greeted, simple and sweet. “What’s your name?”

“Ren.” the boy replied. Everyone’s eyes bugged out. His voice was _deep_. Aoba had been proud when his own voice started transitioning from nasally mouse to regular teenager mode, but this was incredible. It was unfitting as well. Though he was big, Ren’s voice didn’t match with his appearance. He added, “Thank you for letting me sit here,” and every word was like a voiceover of a foreign film. Aoba grinned and assured him it was no problem. Gradually, the others started to talk again, and even though they didn’t include Ren, it made things slightly less uncomfortable.

Then Ren pulled a hamburger out of his bag and it was uncomfortable all over again. It wasn’t even a whole burger with bread and lettuce and such. Just the cooked patty. And he started eating it casually. Even Sei seemed concerned, and he wasn’t normally judgmental.

“So what’s with the tail?” asked Noiz suddenly. Even though he was trying not to think much of it, Aoba was curious as well. Ren lowered his hamburger patty and looked reluctant to answer, and when he did, there was hardly any explanation. 

“I like wearing it.”

“Can I pet it?” Sei asked. Whatever health worries he had about the hamburger were gone. When Ren gave him permission, there were an awkward few seconds in which Sei was petting the fake tail like it was a real animal, and Ren didn’t seem to think much of it because he kept eating his so-called lunch. Sei looked at Aoba with a big smile and declared, “I want one.”

Aoba sighed. Sei was always a bit eccentric with his fashion choices. Of course he would be fascinated by something “cute.” Aoba had no room to object - after all, he had spent quite a lot on his jacket. Ren perked up when he heard Sei’s statement, and perhaps it was Aoba’s imagination, but it looked like he was bouncing in his seat a little. “I have a lot of them,” Ren offered. “You can have one. I’ll bring it tomorrow. That is… if I’m still allowed to sit here?”

Both Sei and Aoba nodded. No one else declined, so that meant it was a unanimous agreement that Ren was officially welcome at the lunch table. He didn’t seem so bad; he just had uncanny lunch choices and a tail. If Aoba was going to be cool, he needed to expand his social circle. His posse had now grown to five (counting Sei, because realistically, he could never _not_ include his own brother, no matter how annoying he could be). Next step: find out about those bleacher creepers.


	3. They Really Are Kind of Creepy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone already knows what's in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy crap i'm sooooOOOOO sorry this took so long. i wasn't sure if i wanted to keep it this short or make it a bit longer. personally i think this chapter could be longer because there's not a lot of content, but that would take more planning which would make you guys wait even LONGER and i've been getting messages about "PLEASE UPDATE" so yeah....... i hope it's not disappointing. it's probably not worth the 5 week wait but i have COLLEGE THINGS to do i'm sorry i hate school

Just ask where he got his clothes from. That was all Aoba had to do. Granny had always warned him not to talk to people like them, and this was the one instance in which he trusted her judgment (even though that was uncool), but for the sake of fashion, he had to be brave. He wasn’t dumb enough to go alone, however. Ren had become attached to him ever since he invited him to the lunch table the previous day. It just so happened that they were in the same grade but had different teachers. Whenever Ren spotted Aoba in the hallway he would wave. A single day since their acquaintance didn’t provide much time for bonding, but so far the only thing Aoba knew for sure was that Ren definitely had a thing for wolves. Even his school folders had pictures of wolves on them.

Ren was very uneasy about the decision to visit the creepers behind the bleachers. He kept his head ducked low as they walked across the school grounds, staying close behind Aoba as if he expected an attack. “Aoba, I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said warily. “We don’t even do drugs.”

“We’re not going to them for drugs, stupid,” Aoba retorted, “we’re just going to ask about their clothes. I said it like a hundred times already.”

“You only mentioned it once--”

“ _Still_. Do I need to say it a hundred times?”

“...No.”

When they were only a few feet away from the bleachers on the edge of the football field, Ren went dead silent. There were not two figures ahead but three. The first two were who Aoba assumed to be the guys he was looking for - they were almost identical, with blonde hair that defied gravity and was reminiscent of those _Dragon Ball Z_ cartoons that used to come on TV. One of them wore a sleek black suit and the other was dressed in the most god-awful plaid pants/vest combo Aoba had ever seen in his life. (He almost doubted if these were the people he was looking for. Who would even be caught dead in an ensemble like that?) The third person was a guy whose height could only be compared to that of the Toue Inc. building in the center of town. To be honest, he was even more intimidating than the _Dragon Ball_ Duo. The person in the suit handed him a plastic bag - full of what, Aoba couldn’t tell - and the intimidating man tucked it into his long overcoat. Then he glanced over at Aoba and Ren.

“Oh no,” Aoba said under his breath. Ren perked up with a fearful expression.

“What?”

“He’s hot.”

Perplexed, Ren looked ahead at the man Aoba would now call Long Tan and Handsome, but he was not impressed. His eyebrows furrowed in displeasure and he gave Aoba an odd look. “Girls like dreadlocks?" he asked.

“What the hell? I’m not a girl.” He thought people had stopped making that mistake in elementary school. His voice wasn’t so high pitched anymore.

Guiltily, Ren tried to salvage the situation and instead he asked, “You like boys?”

“I like whoever I want. That’s rule number one of being cool.”

Ren could not argue because obviously he wasn’t the expert of coolness. During this exchange, Long Tan and Handsome nodded at the bleacher creepers before walking away, his awesome trenchcoat swishing with each step. Aoba turned his focus to the DBZ Duo, who also turned to watch him, while Ren resumed hiding behind Aoba which didn’t work well because he was so much bigger than him. The one in the suit adjusted his glasses in a foreboding manner.

“Do we have a newcomer? Hello there. I’m Virus, and this,” he gestured to his plaid friend, “is Trip.”

“Yo,” Trip greeted, looking far less cheerful than Virus.

At least one of them seemed sociable, despite the aura of danger. Was he supposed to give them his name? Aoba didn’t really want to associate with them, so he didn’t see a point in it. He was just here for one thing.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied. He tried to evade introducing himself by cutting right to the chase. “That’s a nice suit. Where’d you get it?”

Virus’ smile brightened and he took his hands out of his pockets so he could spin around and show off his outfit. “The mall in South District. The only place worth shopping if you ask me.”

Aoba nodded in contemplation as he admired the suit. Granny would never take him somewhere that expensive, even if he managed to scrounge up enough money for something. These two were probably rich because of the business they had here. Maybe someday when he could make his own money… Aoba was pulled out of his reverie when Virus spoke again in his unsettlingly pleasant voice. “So what will it be, my friend?”

“What? Oh,” the younger boy’s gaze flitted to and fro as he quite literally searched for an escape. “I don’t have enough money right now. I just wanted to uh, see if you guys were really here.” He smiled sheepishly. Technically neither statement was a lie. They couldn’t get mad at him for that.

“What about your skittish friend?” Trip asked. It startled Ren, who shook his head and tried to make himself even shorter behind Aoba. “No,” he replied. Trip raised his eyebrows but did not persist.

Virus folded his arms behind his back and bowed to the two middle-schoolers. “In that case, you’re welcome back anytime. I hope you change your mind.”

His original mission was over, but now Aoba had yet another interest. Just one more thing he had to ask before he could get out of there. He had to be as casual as possible about it. He put his hands on his hips and nodded in the direction Long Tan and Handsome had gone, asking, “Who was that guy?”

Virus tilted his head - obviously curious as to why a shrimpy kid like Aoba would be interested in someone like that other guy - and said, “I don’t give out customers’ personal information.”

“We don’t give out customers’ personal information,” Trip repeated. Repetition was not needed, but okay. If that was the worst response they would give, Aoba could live with it.

“Does he interest you?” inquired Virus. There was the same smile on his face he had had the entire time, but somehow it had become creepier. Like he was staring right into Aoba’s soul or something.

The blue haired boy uttered an “Uh” and decided now was a good time to leave. “No, just curious,” he said, “and thanks for your time. Maybe we’ll come again.” He waved at the two high schoolers and nudged Ren with his elbow. They turned and walked briskly away. When they were far enough to be out of earshot, Ren looked worriedly at Aoba and asked, “We’re not going there again, are we?”

“ _Hell_ no.” answered Aoba. “They really are kind of creepy.”


End file.
